Intercepted (Page 24)

The only perk is being old enough to purchase wine to numb the pain while paying said bills. Except after I paid the bills, I realized I couldn’t afford any more wine. Then I made a spreadsheet to determine which bills I could cut in order to provide the necessary amount of wine and in the end, wondered if shelter is really necessary.

There’s a good chance I need a therapist. Maybe I should add a column in the budget for insurance? Or maybe not.

It’s been four weeks since I’ve talked to Gavin. Four weeks from the fashion show. Four weeks from coffee and croissants. Four weeks since we made out like teenagers and dry humped on my couch.

It hasn’t been four weeks since I’ve heard from Gavin, though.

I don’t know why I exchanged numbers with him. It just seemed like the polite thing to do. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

The first week, he called or texted every day. The next week he texted a few times. The following week he called once. Now I haven’t heard from him at all.

I’m glad. Really, I am. I’ve got work, Brynn has entrusted me to take over all of her marketing, and I took on one final freelance client. Also, for the first time since high school (besides those stupid breaks), I’m single. And I need to stay that way.

For some reason I haven’t figured out, I can’t seem to stop thinking about Gavin, or more accurately, about the way Gavin kisses . . . and tastes . . . and feels.

But thankfully for me, I’m so busy making sure I don’t end up back home with my parents, I can only think of him when I’m not working . . . like I should be doing at HERS right now.

“Are you heading out?” Brynn calls from behind the bar.

“I was, but I can stay if you need anything.” I offer because I love my job so much and not at all because I’m avoiding my quiet apartment and empty couch.

“No, you don’t need to stay for long. I just need to show you something before you leave.” She tosses the rag she was cleaning the bar with into a bucket and turns toward Paisley, the newest hire at HERS. “You good on your own for a sec?”

“I’ll be fine.” Paisley smiles from behind the clipboard. “See ya tomorrow, Marlee.”

“Later, Paisley.” I wave to her as I follow Brynn to the office.

“Miss Harper, please take a seat.” Brynn points to the chair in front of her desk. “We need to talk.”

Brynn is never serious about anything, and the longer she goes without smiling, the more I freak out. She’s not saying a word and I’m going over every promotion, every email, hell, every drink I’ve made in the last few weeks, trying to figure out what I could’ve done wrong.

“We need to talk about the promotions and advertising you’ve implemented recently.” She’s not even looking at me. My stomach drops to the floor, and my mouth goes dry. We’ve grown close over the last couple of months, but this is her business, and I’d never expect her to sacrifice one for the other. I’m just so screwed if I lose this job.

“Yes.” I’m holding back my tears with a single thread. If she doesn’t tell me the bad news fast, there’s a high probability I’ll be a puddle of tears all over the brand-new rug under her desk.

“I want you to look at these.” She turns her computer screen toward me and my entire body tightens. I look at the bright, number-covered screen in front of me for seconds, but for the life of me, I have no idea what it means. Creative is my thing—or was my thing if I end up getting sacked today. Numbers have always eluded me, and right now I feel like I’m looking at Russian.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to be seeing.” My voice is thick from unshed tears.

“Those are the numbers from HERS for the last month. The profits, the traffic to our website, number of reviews, everything since you took charge of marketing.” She turns her computer back toward her and focuses on the screen again. “Want to know what I see?”

Not particularly, but if she draws this out much longer, tears on her rug would be the least of her worries.

“I’m thinking you’re going to tell me.” I sit on my hands to prevent them from fidgeting anymore.

“You’re right, I am.” She pauses for what feels like an eternity, and I have to remember that even though she might be firing me, she’s still my friend, and strangling people is generally frowned upon. “All of our numbers, since I gave you free range of marketing, have . . .” Oh my god! What is this? A result show for some singing competition? “Gone up.”

The tough-as-nails boss facade disappears from her face and she jumps out of her seat, clapping her hands and laughing.

I, on the other hand, take a minute to process this news. I’m so relieved I didn’t sink my friend’s business to the ground, all of my bones seem to evaporate and I’m a pile of sludge. Then the news that not only am I not fired, but I’m kicking ass at my job replaces the missing bones with springs and I shoot out of the chair and start jumping along with Brynn.

“Oh my god!” I slap her shoulder when we’re out of breath from bouncing and screaming. “I can’t believe you did that to me! I thought you were going to fire me!”

“Wasn’t I good? Naomi’s been giving me acting classes the last couple of days so I could pull this off.”

Snakes. I’m friends with sneaky snakes.

“That’s so mean. I’m still shaking!” I show her my hands for proof. “But really good.” Because let’s be honest, we’re friends for a reason, and I would’ve done the exact same thing if I was in her position.

“I know.” She looks at me with a smug smile and pulls an envelope out of her back pocket. “For you, Marketing Master.”

I snatch it out of her hand and rip open the seal.

Could I have played it a little cooler? Yeah. But when you know you aren’t fired and your boss hands you an envelope while bowing, you get excited. Especially if you’re as broke as I am.

I pull out the check and almost cry when I see five hundred dollars written on it.

Brynn shifts from foot to foot and struggles to maintain eye contact. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to show you how much I appreciate all of the work you’ve put into HERS.”

“Are you kidding me? This isn’t much? I’ll be able to pay my electric bill and buy wine and have extra to put in my savings thanks to this!” I wrap her up in a giant bear hug.

“You know you work at a bar, right? We have wine here. You can have a glass before you leave.” She pulls out of my embrace. She hates hugs, something I have a tendency to forget until she acts like I’m trying to start a wrestling death match. And she might look skinny, but my girl is ripped. I’ve been dropped on my ass more times than I’d like to admit.

“If I took the product as much as I’d like, you would’ve been giving me an intervention, not a bonus check.”

“You’re so strange.” She rolls her eyes and walks to the door. “Get out of here. Go call Nay and tell her how convincing my performance was.”

“Ten-four, Boss-Lady.” I salute. “Thanks again for my moola!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She tries to sound uninterested. I might not be able to see her face, but it doesn’t stop me from hearing her smile.

I put my envelope in my purse and walk out of the room with a little pep in my step.